Memories
by Marshmallowsinmycocoa
Summary: James has lost everything because of Hydra. His family, his life, and the man he was...he will never be the same again. Though he still has Steve, there will always be a part of him missing, forever lost to his ruined past. That is, until he agrees to live with the Avengers in Stark Tower, where his life finally begins to take a turn for the better.
1. Chapter 1

**Stark Tower 200 Park Avenue Manhattan, NY**

 **May 2, 2015**

 **10:30pm**

"Amber? Why are you still awake?" Tony bent down to scoop up his daughter from amongst the pieces of a K'nex playset. Amber squirmed in his arms, reaching for another building piece.

"Daddy, the tower's not finished!" Amber whined, struggling desperately to get both feet on the ground. "I don't wanna go to bed!"

Tony laughed as he tried not to drop his six-year-old daughter. The irony of his situation wasn't even surprising. As a kid, Tony had never been one to go to bed willingly, and as an adult he still struggled with leaving his projects in the lab.

"That is from your side of the family." Pepper quipped with a smile. Tony made a face at her from across the living room and rolled his eyes.

"Bitsy. Time for bed." Tony said sternly. By that point, Amber was hanging upside-down by her ankles, processing defeat. She let out a small huff of disappointment and blew her short strawberry-blonde hair out of her face.

"Will you carry me?" Amber asked, a sleepy smile on her face.

Tony set her down gently on the ground to prevent his arms from falling off. "How about I just drag you instead?"

Amber thought it over for a few seconds, then shook her head no and let loose a few wild, hiccup-like giggles.

"That is also from your side of the family." Pepper stated matter-of-factly.

Tony grimaced at her in response, and Amber giggled even harder at the look on her daddy's face. Mommy always managed to make him look funny.

"Ok ducky, mommy just volunteered to carry you to bed. Goodnight everyone." On that note, Tony started towards the stairs to the lab.

Suddenly, Amber let loose an exasperated whine. "No!" Amber wailed. "I want daddy!"

Tony paused and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He had important projects that needed to be finished ASAP. SHIELD was counting on him for a locked location on the Winter Soldier, and on top of that, he still needed to re-wire the circuitry in the new Iron Man suit.

"Please?" Amber sniffled.

SHIELD would have to wait.

Tony bent over and swung Amber up into the air, catching her halfway over his shoulder. Amber let out a shrill giggle as she flew, then wrapped her arms around his neck with a contented sigh.

"Oh, and Mrs. Stark, will you please refrain from turning off the lights in the lab until further notice?" Tony implored. Pepper looked up at him and quirked an eyebrow, sending him her best do-not-stay-up-all-night-or-else-you-can-sleep-in-the-guest-room look.

"Fine. But if you decide to blow up anything else at two in the morning, I will make sure the lab doors are locked for the rest of the month. Jarvis, did you hear that?"

"Yes, Mrs. Stark. The lab doors will be locked at ten thirty tomorrow night if I record any audible explosions in my security directory." Tony gaped at her in feigned shock, sarcastic as ever. Pepper smirked at his antics and silently returned to her work papers, choosing to ignore him.

Tony smiled to himself and turned away from Pepper to carry an exhausted Amber down the hall, switching on her bedroom light as he went. "C'mon, bitsy, time for bed." Amber yawned slowly, unlocking her arms from around his neck and slipping under the sheets as if she were made of pudding. "Sweet dreams, ducky." Tony whispered. With that, he planted a small kiss on her forehead and left the room.

...

Fifteen minutes later Tony was back in the lab, working on the new Iron Man suit. He looked up from his work in search of a soldering iron, only to find Dum-E attempting to turn on a blender; without the lid. Dum-U was close by, holding the tool Tony had been looking for.

"Dummy, no more smoothies!" Tony yelled.

Too late.

The blender roared to life, spraying chunks of kiwi and strawberry into the air fountain-style. Dum-E panicked and knocked it over at the sound of Tony's voice. From there, the greenish contents spilled onto an unused set of wrenches.

Tony ran a calloused hand over his face in frustration.

"Jarvis, that does not count as an explosion. And Dummy..." Dum-E swiveled to face Tony, knocking the blender to the floor in the process.

"Clean that up."

Tony stood up to retrieve the soldering iron from Dum-U, and stepped on something soft and fuzzy. Looking down, he saw a pale yellow stuffed giraffe bunched underneath his foot. Tony released the creature with caution. The worn animal let out a high-pitched squeak, then slowly wheezed in air. Tony frowned. Amber wouldn't leave this down here; she doesn't go anywhere without it...Tony let his thoughts trail off before stooping down and checking under the table for his daughter. Sure enough, she was in her usual hiding place, tinkering with some spare parts in her Avengers footie pajamas.

"Pst! Bitsy!" Tony whispered loudly. Amber froze, her small shoulders hunched up to her ears. Slowly, she turned to face him, a nervous smile spread over her face.

"Wanna learn how to hot wire a car?" 

**The Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History**

 **Washington, D.C.**

 **May 3, 2015**

 **2:30pm**

The Smithsonian opened at 10:00 am and closed at 5:30 pm on regular days, which meant the whole place was open seven and a half hours a day year-round, except on Christmas.

That was plenty of time to reflect on who exactly James Buchanan Barnes was, right?

Wrong.

Now that he was there, right in front of the exhibit-his exhibit-minuscule slivers of his past began to resurface. It was the slowest, most agonizing kind of torture. Gradually, the questions floated to the surface too, like long-dead bodies buried under a murky lake.

Am I really ninety-eight years old? Where have I been? Oh, God...how many people have I killed? I can't remember...

Who am I?

James clenched his jaw in frustration and anger. Hydra had cost him sixty-nine years of his life. How many times had he been lied to, his memories erased for the sake of conveniency? James stood stock-still in front of the exhibit, trying to control his emotions and put the arbitrarily organized pieces of his life back together.

"Pretty cool, huh?" James jumped halfway into a fighting stance; he hadn't heard anyone walk up behind him. The soldier looked down at the source of the young voice: a little girl, probably about ten years old. She stared up at the exhibit, an expression of wonder glowing on her face.

"Yeah, I guess." he responded numbly.

James turned away quickly so she wouldn't recognize him, and pulled up the collar of his jacket. He pretended to be interested in the Captain America showcase, and grabbed a nearby brochure to hide his face.

"When I'm big, I wanna be just like Captain America! Grandpa says he saved a lot of lives during..." Bucky saw her make a concentrated face out of the corner of his eye. "World War two, I think." She finished proudly. The little girl cocked her head to the side in thought. "How old are you?"

"Sara, doll, that's a rude question." An elderly man in a dull green "Go Army" t-shirt strolled up to the odd pair and stopped in front of the Howling Commandoes exhibit. "Not that you look old or anything." he affirmed with a wrinkled smile.

"Sorry." Sara replied, looking down. "I didn't know it was rude."

James stuffed his metal hand into his jacket pocket, uncomfortable with the attention.

"It's fine. I was just about to leave."

"Ah, I see." The old man smiled in understanding. "Well, before you leave, I highly recommend watching that movie documentary. Very informative."

"Thanks."

James headed towards the nearby theater, determined to remember something else before leaving the museum. 

"Should we take him out in the theater?" The agent pressed in on the listening device in his ear, awaiting the command. He watched as the asset made his way into the dark theater, alone.

At last, the message came through:

"No. Wait until he moves somewhere less public; he'll come to us. I don't want you to make a mess in here."

"Ten-four; Hail Hydra."

The director on-scene ended the transmission and signaled to the agents to load up and move out.

The Winter Soldier would get to live another day.

Hey everyone,

I hope you all are having a very happy Thanksgiving! If you enjoyed my writing, please feel free to like, review, and message me through fan . I'm also posting this story on to see if I can get more people to read and review my work.

Happy holidays!

-Marshy

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(If this link doesn't work, please let me know; it looked a little suspicious when I first posted it.)


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey guys! I am currently out of school for Christmas break (and so are many of you), so definitely expect more frequent updates through to January-ish (2016) on this story. By the way-I am SO EXCITED this story (my first fan fiction) has 30 views/reads already! You guys are the best. Please keep reading/reviewing/favoriting, and Happy New Year!_

The Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History  
Washington, D.C.  
May 3, 2015  
6:00 p.m.

Taxi horns blared throughout D.C. The city was congested with afternoon traffic, pollution clogging the sun-streaked skyline. James greedily sucked it all in, relieved to be outside the stuffy museum. He folded his metal hand into his pocket subconsciously and turned a full 360, making sure he hadn't been followed. Nothing.

Finding nothing was usually worse than finding something. James felt like he was being watched. On his guard, he reached up with his real hand and tipped the bill of his cap lower over his face.

 _Time to lay low._

As if on cue, James' stomach growled like it was planning on devouring his t-shirt. He let out a hot breath and reached for his last granola bar, though he knew it wouldn't last him long. He needed a real meal and a cool drink to shut out the blistering heat of America's capitol. With that in mind, he headed East, farther away from the sun and towards the outer thoroughfares of D.C.

-30 MINUTES LATER-

The sun slumped lower on the horizon, an opaque ice cube melting into the fumes and lights of Washington. The day was coming to an end, and the sticky air condensed low to the street like a soupy fog.

"Shit..." James cursed quietly.  
It wasn't going to be any easier to pick the lock to the deli in the dark. The damn thing had rusted shut a long time ago, though it certainly wasn't beyond his skill. James had found the deli after a half-hour of walking, during which time the side-alley entrance had become too dark for any passersby to see a break-in of any sort. James scrunched his eyebrows together and pressed his lips into a thin line, a rare form of expression. He jimmied the lock one more time, and with a final, satisfying click, the rusty token of victory slid off the door handle and clattered to the ground. James allowed himself a small smile and shoved the door open with his boot, one hand on the gun in his waistband just in case.

A rush of cool air blasted his hair out of his face in greeting, accompanied by a symphony of blissful aromas: freshly crushed mustard, marinading steak, and day-old bread. Not a single person was to be found inside the dingy homestyle deli.

"Я в раю..." James murmured. Then he smiled again, this time a little deeper, and immediately trooped on towards the bowels of the kitchen and the promise of food.

...

"Что ебать?" James held a clear plastic bottle filled with a foreign substance closer to his face in an effort to find out what he'd just spilled on his sandwich. There were some chinese symbols surrounding a picture of a rooster, and the word "Sriracha" written in an arc over the whole shebang.

 _"What's...Sriracha?"_ James thought to himself. _"I can't even pronounce it in my head…"_

After a moment's hesitation, James lifted the strange bottle to his nose and tentatively took a whiff.

 _"Hmm. Kinda spicy. I'll give it a try."_

Perched on the counter next to the stove, James could see through the front windows to the street as well as the side door he'd recently broken through. No one was going to take him by surprise.

He crossed his legs underneath himself and took a huge bite out of his sandwich, just as a car flashed by the front door, headlights glaring into the small shop. James froze immediately, mid-chew and everything. Eventually, the van passed him by, but it seemed to struggle on as if it were missing actual tires. James swallowed hard, nervous tension building up fast. He lowered his eyebrows and retrieved the gun from his waistband, then flicked the safety off and carefully set it on the counter beside him.

 _"Shoulda done that five minutes ago."_ He thought.

For the rest of his time in the restaurant, James ate quickly and watched the entrances like a hawk. If there was ever a good time for HYDRA to assault him, now would be their best chance at taking him out. After contemplating this, James hopped off the counter and retrieved a chair from the main dining area. Even though he wasn't going sleep, he was definitely going to keep watch for his first night away from HYDRA. Besides, he needed time to formulate a getaway plan, and a hell of a good one at that.

…

Around 2:00 a.m., James had scraped together a relatively watertight plan for getting the hell out of the U.S. before he was shot to pieces. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only trained HYDRA assassin still awake at two in the morning. He wasn't the only super soldier awake then, either.

The first gunshots went off fifteen minutes later and without warning. Mixed with the deafening sound of bullets shredding through glass and metal, James swore he heard a motorcycle engine revving uphill.

Stark Tower  
200 Park Avenue  
Manhattan, NY  
May 4, 2015  
3:00 a.m.

"Yes! Yes! High five, ducky!" Tony yelled, a wrench in his left hand and grease smeared across his forehead. He had just taught Amber how to code, and she was already confident enough to hack into one of NASA's lead programs. Green text scrolled across the computer screen, detailing secret mission feedback, future launches, and current projects. It was beginning to look as though there was more than just water on Mars, and that Amber was way above average intelligence. They'd already breezed through hot-wiring cars and soldering irons a long time ago, and Amber had taken it all on like a pro. She also had a few matching streaks of grease smeared across her face from the time they'd spent under one of Tony's corvettes.

Amber flashed a shit-eating grin at her father and high-fived him with all the remaining strength in her tiny six year-old body. Dum-U chirped out a happy robot sound from nearby, where he was on standby with a fire extinguisher and extra fire blankets, just in case; Tony wasn't taking any chances.

"Dad! Look at this! I think it's a launch schedule!" Amber announced, positively ecstatic. "Oh! Is that Uncle Bruce?"

Tony furrowed his eyebrows and leaned in for a closer look.

"Well would you look at that." Tony said. Believe it or not, Bruce Banner was scheduled to make an appearance at a press conference the morning of May fifth, where new gamma radiation tech for the next Mars mission would be explained in fuller detail.

"And he didn't think to invite us." Tony said, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked over at his daughter.

"Does this mean I'm skipping school?" Amber asked, a hopeful look crossing her face.

"Amber, I'm absolutely positive they aren't teaching you enough about gamma radiation at school; so yes, but don't tell your mother."

Amber pumped a fist in the air in victory. "Yes!"

"But don't tell mom, right?"

"Right; don't tell mom." Amber agreed, zipping her lips and throwing away the key, a happy grin already wide on her face.

"Tell me what?" Pepper asked, arms crossed over her chest. She was leaning against the entrance to the lab as if she'd been there a few minutes.

"Security breach!" Amber exclaimed, hopping out of her chair to hide under the nearest table.

"Tony? Why is-" Pepper began.

"Don't look at me; it was her idea." Tony stated.

"Of course it was."


End file.
